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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27258637">Well I love, love you darlin', Come and go with me.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/careforacuppatea/pseuds/careforacuppatea'>careforacuppatea</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fem!Paul McCartney/Paula McCartney [McLennon] [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Beatles (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, First Meetings, Genderbend, Genderbending, Semi-Canonical Character, fem!Paul McCartney, semi-canon au</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 01:15:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,748</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27258637</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/careforacuppatea/pseuds/careforacuppatea</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Two souls who share a passion for music, Rock an' Roll to be precise, and a desire only they could understand, would be introduced to each other through a mutual friend, at the Garden Fête at St. Peter's Church in Woolton, Liverpool, on July 6th, 1957.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>John Lennon/Paul McCartney, McLennon - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fem!Paul McCartney/Paula McCartney [McLennon] [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1990336</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Well I love, love you darlin', Come and go with me.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>What if Paul had been born a girl?</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“<b>If Paul would have been a woman, John would have been in love with her</b>” <br/>– Yoko Ono (<em>John was in love with Paul, thing is it only would’ve made their love much easier to act on and be public with if, Paul had been a woman</em>)</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Oi, John!” </p><p>John looked up from trying to re-tune his guitar after fixing the busted string, squinting up at Ivan from where he sat, giving him a rather bothered look. </p><p>“Brought a friend of mine.” </p><p>A smaller figure stepped out from behind Ivan; at the first glance all John caught was a dainty little thing, a bird obviously. </p><p>Oh, </p><p>a <em>bird</em>. </p><p>Feet dropping from their relaxed position on the chair opposite of him, John sat straight up, doing a double take, and this time really <em>saw</em> Ivan’s little friend. Well, as best as he could without his specs. </p><p>“John, this is Paula McCartney. Paula, John Lennon,” Ivan introduced the two.</p><p>She certainly was a dainty little thing, a lovely, delicate, slender little girl, with long, long legs. Couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering even if he tried. While John didn’t care much for what a girl wore [all that mattered was if he could get it off her quick and easy] he had to admit, the dress this girl had on looked very good on her; <em><a href="https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fi.pinimg.com%2Foriginals%2Fb2%2F34%2F8f%2Fb2348f09401299d646f1de7729694d9c.jpg&amp;t=ZDdhOTkxMjY2NDNiZWRjZGFiZmM3NTU2MGU2ZTk1N2ZhYmJiYmNmYiwydDhlOTBVRQ%3D%3D&amp;b=t%3A5u07yg0Gny0U61h9D6bBVw&amp;p=https%3A%2F%2Fjohns-prince.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F613515355788361728%2Fgenderbend-au-john-lennon-and-paula-mccartney&amp;m=0&amp;ts=1603943391">white summer dress that hugged her, what looked like a blue ribbon wrapped about her small waist</a></em>. It contrasted the dark black hair of hers, and to John’s amusement, was tied back in an obviously loose, hurried way– but it worked, very <em>Brigitte Bardot</em>, John thought to himself. </p><p>Then her face, God in heaven, her face– if only he could put his glasses on to see her better. A heart shaped face, with a cute little button nose and the biggest doe-eyes John had ever seen, with the thickest, darkest lashes. Only later when he’d get the courage to put on his glasses around her, would he realize her eyes were hazel. <br/>What put it altogether were a pair of lips that were so pouty, so <em>full</em>– lips that were made for kissing raw. Finally, John met the girls’ gaze, and it was like a jolt of energy had been shot right into his veins, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand. This girl was <em>beautiful</em>.</p><p>John’s tongue suddenly felt thick, heavy and dry like he had a mouth full of cotton instead. Damn Ivan, not warning John what sort of ‘<em>little friend</em>’ he was bringing for John to meet.<br/>Trying his best to keep his cool, all John could manage was a simple, <em>Hi Paula,</em> before turning back to his guitar, though at this point he was just fiddling with it, couldn’t focus. Shy, a bit flustered, voice soft as she responded, “Hullo, John.” When no other pleasantries were exchanged, Paula then turned to Ivan, and reaching out towards the guitar he’d been holding, was passed over to her, along with some small object he’d been holding in one of his pockets for her as well. As if approaching some wild animal, Paula carefully took a step closer to John, catching his attention once more, eyes darting down at the guitar she held tightly in front of her, then darting back up with a curious look now. Worrying at her bottom lip, “D’ya need some help, with that?” </p><p>For a short moment John didn’t respond, just stared at Paula, look turning from curious to surprised, an eyebrow quirking; then, turning away from her back to his guitar, responded with a, “Sure, take a seat.” </p><p>While she tried to hold it back, a small grin broke across her face as she watched John pull the now vacant seat beside him. John himself had to bite the inside of his cheek, hard, to keep his own smile of interest down. </p><p>Seated, she offered her own guitar to him, and he took it as she went to work on his. John watched as her slender fingers fussed with the pegs, before curiously inspecting hers. The strings were the wrong way! “Hey,” John said, catching Paula’s attention. “What’s with your guitar?” <br/>“Oh, I’m left-handed,” with that she turned her attention back to tuning, and as she plucked at a string, brought that little object, a guitar tuner, to her lips. “There we go, I- how ‘bout I check the others, while I’m here,” Paula said, glancing over to John as if waiting for any objections, but when John simply gave a curt nod, she smiled and went on ahead. John quietly watched, most of his attention on Paula’s hands, the way she bit at her bottom lip while focused on something; and when John’s eyes would occasionally drift about, he noticed all the other lads were just as curious and watchful as he was. Something akin to jealousy made itself known, which John quickly found <em>stupid</em>. </p><p>“Fancy that,” Though surprised, John found himself much more impressed by this girl. Eyeing all the boys as he went on, “She’s <em>good</em>, don’t know many women who can do this…” Turning to Ivan, John asked as if Paula wasn’t right there, “Can she play as good as she can tune?” Before Paula could say anything herself, Ivan, as if she was<em> his</em> girl to brag about, said, “Oh she can <em>play</em>, John.” Speaking directly to Paula, Ivan urged, “Gotta show ‘I’m Paulie.” A grin grew across John’s face, playful, all white teeth; “Yeah <em>Paulie</em>,” John drawled out the childish nickname, “Y’should play somethin’ for us.” A pause, “for <em>me</em>.”</p><p>With both Ivan and John staring at her now, Ivan predictably, but John… well, he certainly got her cheeks rosy with such a look. Biting the inside of her cheek, her large eyes darted from one boy to the other, before falling on John, a ghost of amusement quirking the edge of her lips. With a soft shrug of her shoulders, she gave only a soft<em> hum</em> as a response before going back to the guitar.</p><p>“There,” sitting up straight, a soft smile on her face as she turned to John, offering back his guitar. “Thanks Paula,” John said, gingerly taking his back. “Would’ve taken me ages to do that.” With that he handed her guitar back, which she took along with his smile of gratitude. Despite looking like a true Ted, rough and big with his quiff and sideburns and squint, Paula had to admit, he came off as genuine to her. She’d expected him to be a bit putt off by her, being a girl and all; but no, he was… cool. Since she was being honest, she’d also admit that this John fella wasn’t bad looking– quite <em>good </em>looking, really. Suave, was maybe another one of the many words she’d use to describe John. </p><p>Noticing herself staring, Paula ducked her head, brushing a dark strand of hair behind her ear; turning to Ivan, she handed him the pipe-tuner back to him to hold for her. While she had looked away, Paula could feel that John hadn’t, his stare burning his skin and making her feel bothered [she reasoned why she felt hot was because of how warm it was inside this little church] </p><p>Standing, holding her guitar besides her by the neck, the other hand nervously tugging down at her skirt before reaching up to twiddle with strands of hair; “Well,” she said, tangling her finger, wincing as she pulled it loose. John, simply gazing up at her with that damnable smile, arms resting along the side of his guitar’s body. “Yeah?” John returned, and then with a teasing tone of voice, almost goading, “What does this little bird got?” <em>A challenge</em>. </p><p>John watched with fascinated bemusement as something changed in that pretty face, those eyes burning feisty, he could tell even without his clear vision; and instead of shying back, playing meek, Paula’s shoulders squared. Oh now, this girl certainly was a treat.<br/>Without explanation Paula toed out of her simple heeled shoes, and John took note this girl wasn’t wearing nylons… Some of the boys broke out in a whisper, and John looked over at Ivan, expecting him to say something, but all he got was a look like, “<em>Just watch</em>.” So, he did, he watched as she swung her guitar up, cradling it close, and for a moment settle herself down. </p><p>‘<em>What does this little bird got</em>,’ Paula thought to herself with a huff. With one last calming breath, Paula threw herself into exactly what she got.</p><p>They watched, rather captivated by this young girl, shamelessly playing out her own renditions of ‘Twenty Flight Rock,’ and ‘Be-Bop-A-Lula’; then a trio of Little Richard tunes, including ‘Tutti-Frutti’, ‘Good Golly, Miss Molly’, and ‘Long Tall Sally’. John took note she’d switched some pronouns around in some of the songs, but it worked– <em>she</em> worked. For such a sweet voice she certainly had some pipes on her, beautiful even, even if it wasn’t exactly expected for women to be able to even do this sort of music. She swayed and slid with the music, moving in such ways that, for Little Richard and Eddie Cochran could pull off, but would be <em>highly</em> unladylike for someone like Paula. But she went for it, and John was incredibly impressed, almost blown away even, especially with how she played Twenty Flight Rock. Though, John couldn’t help but also feel a bit shown-up by this lass, even threatened. </p><p>When Paula finished, the sound of praise from the other boys, even some of the girls who’d trickled in to chat up those boys, Ivan beaming at her… Paula let out a breathless laugh, flustered and shaking just a bit. When Paula looked to John, a sweet old smile, ruddy cheeked, eyes wide and bright and for a moment John swore he saw kaleidoscopes staring back at him. Whatever envy or insecurity he had started feeling, withered as her eyes held his, and the way she looked at him, coquettish, seemed only for him; “<em>Were you watching?”  </em>At that moment John wasn’t sure if it was the cheap beer that got him buzzing, or if it had been this girl. </p><p>She certainly wasn’t conventional, but neither was John– and coming from a long line of unconventionals, how could he judge her? No, she <em>was </em>talented, and strange, and fascinating, and beautiful– maybe even more than Ms. Bardot herself. Bloody hell, John dug this bird.</p><p>John wanted her, and dammit all, he’d have her.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My tumblr is johns-prince.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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